


Ten

by orphan_account



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: F/F, Gen, Secret Crush, although it ain't much of a secret
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-12
Updated: 2013-05-12
Packaged: 2017-12-11 16:24:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/800732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She ponders the number.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ten

Marianne believes that Louise is the embodiment of perfection. The way her face creases slightly when she laughs, the way her hips move, and her sweet laughter. Her legs that go one for miles and her innocent looking blue eyes. Marianne is falling madly in love with her best friend’s sister. 

She longs to see every part of Louise, and worship them like some crazed old woman. She wants to show her the pleasure of a woman who knows her stuff. She wants, she wants, and she wants, but she can’t have. All because of Julchen.

She loves Julchen, don’t get her wrong, but at some point you have to let your little sister explore a bit without you. Let her have her own life, let her discover and make mistakes for herself. Of course she would never tell Julchen this. She’s tried hinting at it now and again, and that almost got her a black eye! Julchen is just to overprotective of her baby sister, that she hasn’t realized that she’s a woman now. 

Marianne sighs, leaning her face on her hand as Alice drones on. She would stop coming to these meetings if it weren’t for the occasional time Julchen is too lazy to get out of bed and Marianne gets to hang with Louise alone. Today is another unlucky day.

Why is Julchen here anyway? It’s not like they’re ever really going to need help from her.

The meetings slumps along and they really don’t get anything done. Marianne doodles on her notes while everyone speaks about the subject this meeting is based around. Luckily for her, she wasn’t asked to present anything(not that she had anything to present anyway). She almost falls asleep several times but Louise pokes her awake again.

After the meeting is done Louise corners her by her car, a sad looking rental. Louise smiles at her and words flow out her mouth but Marianne hears none of them, blinded by her warming smile.

“So how about it?” Louise asks, cocking her head to the side a little.

“Um, I’m sorry but I didn’t quite hear you the first time.”

Louise frowns a bit then says it again. “I want to know if you wish to come with Julchen and I to dinner. Amelia recommended it to me. She says it‘s very nice.”

_Julchen and I_. 

“Ah thank you Louise but I have plans.” she says, lying.

“Oh. Of course.” Louise frowns a little more then walks away without saying goodbye, vaguely calling back to her a beat later with, “Enjoy your wine!”

_She probably thinks I’m an alcoholic who’d rather spend time with her aged red wine then with her._

Behind her she hears cursing. She takes a quick look. Alice, in the mostly empty parking lot, is yelling at a car. At least Marianne isn’t _that_ lonely yet.

“Stupid bloody American cars, ‘oh my cars are the best’. Bullshit!” Alice shouts, kicking the tire.

“Need a ride Alice?” she says over her yelling.

Alice spins around, as if she’s just noticed she was there. “No of course not!”

A pause, then a clap of thunder. “Oh bloody hell.”

As Alice walks towards her, Marianne unlocks the car, laughing to herself. As Alice gets closer, she sits down and starts the car, unlocking the passenger door. 

They are staying at different hotels of course and Alice tells her in a terse tone where her hotel is. Marianne nods and drives on.

“You weren’t paying attention at all today.” Alice says.

“Not really.” she admits. “There isn’t much to pay attention too.”

Alice scoffs. “Oh, right! Like you weren’t spending the entire meeting staring at Germany whenever you got the chance too!”

“At least I was staring at her face.” she says, referring to the fact that Alice, when Amelia came up to speak, couldn’t take her eyes off her breasts.

They don’t speak for the rest of the ride.

* * *

She is awoken by her expensive, albeit useful, phone ringing. She swings her arm in the direction of the nightstand and feels around for it.

“Yes?” she says, sleepily forgetting to check who it was.

“Hola mi amiga!” Isabel cheerfully shouts into her ear.

Marianne must get her to stop trying to her in Spanish early in the morning. She slowly translates it in her head, then responds, “Hello. Stop shouting.”

She hears something that sounds like a soap opera in the background and she hears Isabel gasp a little and then continues, “Lo-I am sorry friend. I did not know you had such a rough night.”

Marianne looks to the other side of the bed. “My night wasn’t rough, I just prefer not to be woken up by a yelling Spanish woman who should spend more time with her girlfriend and less time watching soaps.

Isabel sighs. “She stormed off this morning.”

Marianne sits up. “What now?”

“Feliciana called early this morning, and I tried to get her to stay, but you know how sisters are.”

_Do I ever._ Marianne thinks to herself.

“Something bad happen?”

“No, no, at least not in my sense of the word. Feliciana couldn’t find a recipe.”

“Speaking of recipes, do you remember that dish you made last meeting?” she asks, swinging her legs out from under the covers and over the side of the bed.

“Empanadas?”

“Yes that. I was wondering if you’d give me a recipe for that.”

“I thought you didn’t like cooking.”

She gets off the bed. “I thought I would try my hand at it again.”

Last time she had cooked was during the time after 1945, when Louise was sickly and worried about whether her sister was dead or not. She would barely eat anything, and sometimes Marianne would set a plate in front of her and she would begin sobbing.

“That’s good. You were always a good cook my friend.”

She hums and nods in response as she searches for a pair of pants.

There is a pause. “I must go Marianne. See you soon for cooking lessons!”

“I didn’t want cooking-” but it’s too late, Isabel has hung up.

Marianne sighs, pulling open her closet door. Amelia made sure it was a walk in so it was somewhat empty when she arrived, so she had to go shopping with her.

It’s now somewhat full and Marianne is quick to find a pair of pants, a bra, and a shirt. Her phone, now on the floor begins ringing again.

She bends over to get it. A smiling picture of Amelia stares back at her.

“Why is it all the loud people wish to call me?” she asks, answering the phone, holding it away from her ear to avoid Amelia’s signature loud hello.

“Hey Mary!” Amelia says.

“Why must you shorten my name?”

“’cause it’s quicker. But that isn’t what I’m calling ‘bout!”

“Then what are you calling about?” she asks, beginning to pick her clothes up off the floor.

“There’s this new club that I wanna go to. I was going to call Alice but you know how she is in the morning.”

She doesn’t like what Amelia is implying but she is to busy figuring out whose pants are under her bed.  
“You want me to go with you?”

“Yeah of course! Can you go?”

“No actually. Isabel is going to teach me how to cook empanadas.”

“Oh. I guess I’ll ask Alice.” she says, then hangs up.

“Thank you Isabel.”

There is nothing she hates more than clubbing. Loud Noises and flashing lights. Not exactly her idea of a good time.

* * *

Marianne is lying on the couch after cleaning her floor(which hasn’t been clean since Amelia got it for her), wondering if she is going about it all wrong. 

Louise is her own person, maybe if she would just tell her…

Maybe she wouldn’t feel the same. She’d lose a dear friend, maybe even two.

She shuts her eyes and imagines all the possibilities. All the things that can go right or wrong. The bad and the good mush together into something unrecognizable, a mishmash of words and facial expressions. 

Something far away.

‘Or,’ she thinks, sitting up. ‘maybe it’s closer than one thinks. It is never a good idea to wait, when it come to matters of the heart.’

She knows where Louise’s apartment is. She’s been their several times with Julchen. She counted the miles from her apartment to Louise’s once. 10.

She ponders number while putting on a coat and getting her purse. The French Revolution lasted 10 years. Louise thanked her 10 times in a letter after Julchen came home. Louise and Julchen spied for her 10 times in the war. Louise once ushered 10 people into her home, only saying that they needed to get to America. 10 miles to her apartment. 10 miles to her confession.


End file.
